


Swift and Fluid

by maybeithinkso



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 07:10:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13898946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybeithinkso/pseuds/maybeithinkso
Summary: The winds of Nifl are cold and harsh, the snows just as relentless.





	1. Swift

Clattering echoes throughout the empty halls leading to the training room — a rarity in itself, given the people who stay here, but just as well.

It wouldn't do for anyone to witness the Princess of Nifl herself be knocked onto her rear time and again.

She isn't terribly lacking in any respect, as she is confident in what she has and what she can achieve. The simple fact is that Sharena is quicker, much quicker.

For every swing Fjorm blocks, another vicious backhand or reverse swing is already in flight and halfway to colliding. For every jab she dodges, the ruthless truth behind the feint reveals itself not a second later.

Sharena is as swift and relentless as the winds of Nifl, and though Fjorm is homesick, this is not how she wants to remember.

She wants to admire the earnest, beautiful green of Sharena's eyes as their lances meet again and again, and not see the helplessness against Muspell's Flame. She wants to take in every inch of Sharena's body and the grace of her movement, and not feel the desperation behind her every strike, as if her lance alone could put out the fires.

Fjorm stumbles as the lance shaft tangles between her feet, and stops just shy from tumbling to the ground when Sharena catches her arm.

"Are you alright? That one wasn't quite fair."

There are circles of weariness under Sharena's eyes, and the sight aches. Her cold hands are no good here if they cannot soothe the worry from her eyes and put her at ease.

"It is very much your point, Sharena. Fairness is no judge on the battlefield."

They both know this truth, but Fjorm doesn't regret saying it any less when the bright wink in Sharena's eyes dims a little.

"You're right," Sharena agrees, pulling her upright so that they both stand steady. Fjorm's heart swells three times over when she sees those small shoulders square and straighten, when Sharena smiles and the space around them brightens in agreement _yes, this is the most beautiful smile_.

"But that doesn't mean we should be any less. Right?"

Sharena is a girl of small stature, standing tall at the chins of both her and Alfonse. Without the armor of Askr, one might think her too small to shoulder the burden of both princess and people. But Sharena carries herself and then some all the same, and her smile never dims, never brightens for anything less than her beloved and her people.

Sharena's smile never betrays herself, and Fjorm finds her radiant and strong, her sincerity and purity the most beautiful of all. They march for Nifl soon, and Fjorm prays for the strength to be Sharena's lance, to be the swift, cold, and harsh Nifl winds in her stead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so at both neutral sharena has more hp, attack, and speed
> 
> sharena big sharena strong


	2. Fluid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And if Sharena was the wind, then Fjorm was the snow that came with.

One thing Sharena loved about Fjorm (not above all, but a lot) was her lance work. Born from pragmatism and her own intuition, Sharena's lance was quick and exacting. She knew this, from her shorter legs and reach to her smaller stature and space. 

Fjorm's lance was fluid and graceful. Sharena didn't know how the lance came to Fjorm, but it looked and felt natural, like she was fighting someone with a much longer arm rather than a lance. Every time they sparred she felt a little foolish, tripping Fjorm with her lance like a terrible dance partner.

(She also couldn't dance, but Fjorm didn't need to know.)

Fjorm never complained, and treated every slight to her grace as forgiveness — a reminder that Muspell would not be so kind. There was never a moment when she wasn't smiling in that slight calm and gentle way that she always did. 

And then, effortlessly, Sharena was swept onto her back and pinned with a lance at her throat — not unlike the buffet of a flurry of snow.

Sharena wasn't surprised at her sudden loss, considering how Fjorm carried herself — posture straight but relaxed, stance unassumingly neutral but ready for the slightest danger. She was an image to leave one in awe and without breath, fighting to breathe against the flurries from the faraway land of Nifl. 

Fjorm walked and danced like the snows of her homeland, and hit just as hard.

(Her skin was always cold as testament, even during sparring.)

"Sharena?"

The chilly touch on her bare shoulder had Sharena almost jumping out of her vest. 

"Fjorm! Gosh, your hands are cold!" It wouldn't do much good, but she held Fjorm's outstretched hand between her own regardless. 

"I apologize, there's nothing I can do about that." Fjorm's smile was not apologetic. "You seemed lost in thought."

"Oh, you know," she waved with one hand briefly before placing it back over Fjorm's, "the usual."

"And what, pray tell, is this 'usual'? You say this every time, but I've yet to hear what exactly."

She thought about a lot of things, like Muspell, the people of Askr, Nifl, Fjorm's family, Alfonse growing grey hairs, how cold but pleasant Fjorm's hands were to hold, that she should probably get up so that Fjorm wasn't kneeling for so long. 

"I was thinking about you."

(Above all, but this she did not say.)

Fjorm was an ethereal grace born from snow, her resolve the resilient ice of Nifl, but at that moment all Sharena thought was how cute her blush was, and how warm her hands had become.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's really short for supposed two chapter thing, but i didn't want to put them together, i'm sorry


End file.
